After Hours
by GeneHuntress
Summary: Smutty one shot set at the end of 1.5. What if Gene didn't get drunk? And Annie arranged a lock-in for two?


I always felt there was some UST between Gene and Annie and this is the result. Thanks as ever to the lovely PSoS for all their encouragement.

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**After Hours**

Annie watched Sam walk off into the night, and then locked and bolted the door behind him in relief, feeling a slight twinge of guilt at sending him off on a wild goose chase. She sighed. Needs must, and all that. The clientele had been shunted out, drunken but generally good-natured, she could still hear their voices in the distance laughing and singing. So that was it, then. Just her and Gene. The Guv. The man she wanted with every fibre of her being, and had done since the minute she'd first clapped eyes on him all those months ago.

She knew she had a future with Sam, nothing would change that. He was a lovely bloke and good relationship material, someone to rely on, to trust, hopefully to grow old with. Gene, on the other hand, was a force of nature, Alpha-male with a capital A, arrogant, chauvinistic, opinionated … and sexy as hell. Everything about him turned her on – his gravelly voice, those pouting lips, the way he held a ciggie dangling from his long, elegant fingers. And his eyes, changing colour constantly, and framed by those long lashes - bedroom eyes, her mother would call them. One intense glare from him and her legs turned to jelly. And there was something else, a sensuality about him that made her think he'd be dynamite between the sheets.

She'd watched him running his fingers slowly up and down a whiskey glass, deep in thought, longing to feel his touch on her skin. Then there was the time he'd lit a ciggie, holding it between his lips for a second before passing it across the table, the entire action so incredibly sexy she'd almost considered taking up smoking. And once she'd walked into the department early in the morning and caught him shaving after an all-nighter, completely unaware of her presence. She'd stopped dead in her tracks, transfixed, as he skimmed the razor expertly across his face leaving smooth skin in its wake, taking his time, enjoying the ritual … suddenly he'd transformed a wet shave into something almost erotic. Her breath caught in her throat as he unhurriedly patted his face dry and splashed on some Old Spice, and then unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it off before selecting a clean one. She'd caught a glimpse of smooth chest and a hint of belly before he did the buttons up and flung a tie round his neck, knotting it carefully in front of the mirror. Closing her eyes, she sighed at the memory, knowing she had to have him, even if it was only the once. And this was her best chance.

She made her way nervously back behind the bar again, heart beating fast. He had his back to her, pulling himself a pint, and her eyes raked over him, hair curling over his collar, broad shoulders tapering down to that firm arse, and those endless legs.

"Wan' somethin', Cartwright?"

She took a deep breath to steady herself and took the three steps towards him, slipping her arms round his waist and pressing herself into his back. Taken by surprise, he tensed but he didn't move away.

"Yes, Guv. I want you … straight up …"

She couldn't believe she'd actually said it out loud. Running her hands up over his chest, she pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss between his shoulder blades, feeling him shiver at her touch. He still didn't pull away, so she slowly undid the first button, and paused waiting for a reaction.

"Don' stop on my account …"

His voice was a low growl, turning her insides to liquid. She wrapped herself round him and continued to undo his shirt, breathing in the glorious scent of him, head spinning as her hands smoothed over bare skin.

"Ya realise this is sexual harassment, Cartwright?"

She felt the vibration of his voice through his chest, and shivers ran down her spine.

"You goin' to have me up on a charge then, Guv?"

She tugged his shirt down over his arms and dropped it to the floor, pressing her lips against the warmth of his bare shoulder.

"No, Cartwright. I'm just goin' to have you …"

He turned suddenly, and she found herself pinned against the bar, one hand squeezing her backside and the other under her chin, forcing her to look at him. His eyes were hypnotic this close up, silver grey with a predatory gleam, and his lips were inches from hers as he pushed himself against her, evidence of his arousal hard against her hip. He looked down at her parted lips and then back up to her eyes again.

"Last chance to run away from the Big Bad Wolf, Sweetheart. If we take this any further there'll be no stoppin' me …"

He oozed masculinity from every pore, and she felt herself shaking with suppressed desire.

"Good …"

She heard the quaver in her own voice, and then his mouth was on hers, taking her breath away. Where Sam's kisses were sweet and tender, Gene's was passionate and demanding, his tongue sliding over hers, exploring, teasing, tasting … she felt as though her bones were dissolving, and when he slid one hand up to fondle a breast she was lost, moaning into his mouth. He broke the kiss, lips moving to ravish her neck, his fingers making short work of the buttons on her blouse. He slipped it off, mouth never breaking contact with her skin, and then unclasped her bra with practised ease. Both hands moved to cup her breasts, thumbs skimming over the nipples, and he moved back slightly to look at them.

"Beautiful. Been wantin' to get my hands on these fer ages …"

She whimpered, feeling her legs begin to buckle, and he lifted her up onto the bar, moving between her knees, his head on a level with her chest. His fingers traced lightly over the soft skin on her back while his lips moved over the swell of her breast, and she ran her hands through his hair, breath coming in little gasps. His tongue swirled around a nipple before his lips closed over it, and she groaned, pulling his head in closer. God, he was good at this.

"Mmmm … Guv … Gene …"

He transferred his attentions to the other breast, and she bit her lip to avoid crying out, the ripples of pleasure running down her body creating an insistent throbbing between her thighs. He ceased his ministrations and stood back, a fire burning in his eyes.

"Skirt, Cartwright …"

She unzipped it with trembling fingers and he helped her wriggle out of it, breath hissing through his teeth when her stocking tops were revealed. He ran his hands slowly up her thighs until he reached her skimpy underwear, never breaking eye-contact, and she shuddered and moaned as one finger teased her gently through the fabric. He chuckled.

"Dirty girl, Cartwright ... Knickers off …"

She lifted herself on her hands and he dragged them over her hips and down her legs, pausing to look at the scrap of black lace in his hand. He flashed her an evil grin, and shoved them in his pocket.

"Little souvenir …"  
>Moving back between her legs, he pushed her knees wider apart, enjoying the view before bending down to tease her with his tongue. She gasped, falling back onto her elbows as he began to work her expertly with his mouth, licking and sucking, driving her ever closer, thighs quivering under his hands. Jesus, where had he learned to do that? Slipping onto her back, she heard herself panting and begging, her fingers tangled in his hair.<p>

"Gene … oh please … don't stop …"

When she was right on the edge, he raised his head and stepped back, and she groaned in frustration, pushing herself up into a sitting position. Watching her expression, he unzipped his trousers and freed his impressive erection, smirking as her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. She licked her lips in anticipation, and he looked down at himself and then back up at her.

"Bigger in all departments, Luv ..."

He lifted her down and spun her round to face the bar, his naked chest pressed against her back, breath hot on her neck. She writhed against him wantonly, but he held her still.

"…and I'm gonna to be buried deep inside you when I make you come … Bend over, there's a good girl …"  
>She obeyed, legs quivering, supporting herself on the bar, and he ran his hands up her thighs before fondling her naked bottom.<p>

"Nice arse, Cartwright …"  
>He kicked her legs further apart and then he was pushing into her slowly, inch by inch, and she gasped at the sheer size of him, stretching her, filling her. She groaned loudly as he started to thrust in long smooth strokes.<p>

"Oh God … Gene … harder …"

"So wet for me … and tight … feels so good …"

He pulled her back onto him, going even deeper, grunting with each thrust, and she felt herself tip over the edge, falling, gasping his name as her body convulsed, shuddering with pleasure and clenching round him. She was still feeling the aftershocks as he powered into her a few more times, fingers digging into her hips, spilling into her with a groan, panting and swearing.

"Jesus … Annie … oh fuck …"

She felt her legs beginning to give way and he pulled out of her, both collapsing onto the floor, chests heaving. After a while he grinned across at her and got unsteadily to his feet.

"I need a fag … and me pint. Wan' anythin'?"

She nodded, groping for her blouse and wrapping it round her shoulders, painfully aware that she was naked apart from her stockings.

"Think I'll have that drink now, please."  
>He poured her a large vodka and tonic and passed it to her before flopping back down, stretching out his long legs and lighting up. He took a deep drag and blew the smoke out slowly, looking at her through narrowed eyes.<p>

"Well, well. Who'd 'ave thought it, Cartwright? They say the quiet ones are the worst."

He waggled his eyebrows at her, shifting her legs into his lap and rubbing a foot gently. She shivered with pleasure at his touch, pulling her blouse closer round her shoulders, and his hand moved up to stroke her calves, her skin tingling under his fingers.

"Can't beat a pair o' stockings to get a bloke going." The expression in his eyes made her stomach flip, a mixture of amusement and desire. He stubbed his ciggie out and reached forwards to pull her into his lap, ignoring her squeal of surprise. He dropped the blouse to the floor again. "Don't bother gettin' dressed, Luv. We're not done yet …"


End file.
